


Christmas is in the air... don't breathe too deeply!

by Sirylu (Neblinosa)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Humor, Opposites Attract, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neblinosa/pseuds/Sirylu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Hermione find themselves having to decorate Slytherin Dungeons for the upcoming Christmas day… Will they survive the task?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas is in the air... don't breathe too deeply!

**Author's Note:**

> **Author notes:** This fic has been written under my old penname, Sirylu, as a Christmas present for the Lady of the Skulls, as a part of the Armchair Secret Santa operation, at the armchair_slash yahoo group.
> 
> Many thanks are sent to Lady M for putting up with me and actually managing to make of this a slightly decent fic *grins* Also a big hug to Patchfire, for enduring my silly wibbling.

* * *

  


**Sirylu Productions presents**  


Draco Malfoy & Hermione Granger

  


in

 

  
**Christmas is in the air… don’t breathe too deeply!**  


  


a so-called Christmas Fic

  


* * *

“This is your entire bloody fault, Mudblood!”

One enraged Draco Malfoy pointed an accusing finger at Hermione Granger.

The threat however, would have had a much more dramatic effect hadn’t the blond been cradling an armful of shiny multicoloured Christmas balls.

“Shut up, Malfoy. You’re as much at fault as I am!” The girl retorted poisonously, several sparkling ribbons wrapped around her neck.

“You started it!” Malfoy spat. “Why in hell had you to brag about how good you were at decorating in front of that loony man who calls himself Headmaster? _'Good enough to make homey the Slytherin Dungeons'_? Has that mass of hair of yours rooted in your brain or what?”

“Says the imbecile who immediately stated that, and I quote: _'I could do anything the Mudblood did twice as well!'_ ” Hermione imitated the boy’s drawl, making a face of disgust.“So bloody clever of you, Malfoy! What, inhaling the fumes of your hair care products is starting to affect you, right nancy-boy?”

Both teenagers stood at each side of the Slytherin dungeon, covered in Christmas ornaments and glaring daggers at each other.

Truth be told, Hermione had the presence of mind to point out silently, neither of them had been especially inspired that morning, during their shouting match at the Hogwarts’ Great Hall. It was all too predictable Dumbledore would take them up on their _‘offer’_.

Hermione decided that, if she didn’t want to end up in Azkaban so young, the best course of action she could take was to ignore the blond annoyance and get the work done as soon as possible. She turned her back to Malfoy and resumed decorating the fireplace.

“Get back to hanging your balls from the walls, Malfoy,” she instructed crisply, thankful he couldn’t see the wicked smile the pun got out of her. “We can finish this by this afternoon and we won’t have to put up with each other any longer during these holidays.”

She could feel the boy’s burning grey glare trying to bore a hole through her back and heard his distasteful snarl, but appealed to all her willpower to not turn around and hex it off him. They had to follow the Headmaster’s order, after all, and she didn’t think murder would be appreciated.

That didn’t stop her from looking down at her ribbon-covered hands, she wistfully thought of using said ribbons to strangle the blond Slytherin.

Hermione heard harsh sounds coming from the Malfoy-afflicted side of the dungeon, caused by his so-called decorating, and maliciously wondered if he was going to throw a ball at her. Then maybe hexing him silly could be considered self-defence…?

She sighed softly. She wouldn’t be that lucky…

“Remind me again why we aren’t using bloody magic to do this,” snarled Malfoy, while he hung some sparkling balls from the picture frames adorning the Slytherin dungeon.

Hermione snorted in utter disgust at the incredible capacity for annoyance the blond displayed. He could drive her up the walls way faster than Ron ever had.

“Because Headmaster Dumbledore told us not to,” the girl answered harshly. “Besides annoying are you daft Malfoy? I seem to remember that he went on and on about the _‘Cheer of Christmas Handwork’_ for about ten minutes before sending us down here. Quit whining and get back to work.”

“I knew there was a reason I never listened to him before,” the boy snorted.” This crazy plan of making us work together proves the old man is missing a couple of screws up there. And…” Malfoy made a pause for dramatic effect. “Malfoys _don’t_ whine!”

“…”

The silence his barb met made Malfoy turn around and face Hermione, grey eyes narrowing speculatively.

“What? The little Mudblood won’t launch herself into a fervent defence of her much beloved Headmaster?”

Hermione wished him death with a glare but said not a word. She merely went back to place ribbons all over the fireplace. As much as it irked her she could not disagree with Malfoy. Not this time.

Albus Dumbledore was obviously growing more insane if he seriously thought that the way to spread the Christmas Spirit all around Hogwarts was to make the Evil-Blond-From-Hell and her decorate the Slytherin dungeon together.

She meticulously covered the little mantelpiece with sparkling silver threads and stepped back to watch her work, ignoring the blond who she was sure, was sporting now a smug smirk.

Not too bad. Although all the humidity and cobwebs hanging on the corners were most un-Christmassy.

Did the Slytherins ever _clean_ this place?

“And you call that decorating?” the annoying drawl of Malfoy’s polluted the air again and brought Hermione back from her musings. “I’ve seen house elves with better fashion sense than you, Granger. It’s so… plebeian.”

Absently realizing that she hadn’t had as much as a glimpse of said house elves the last few days, she rolled her eyes at her foe’s antics.

Trust Malfoy to make Christmas decoration into an artistic expression.

Hermione briskly turned around and glared at her companion.

“And I can see you are doing such a spectacular job of it, Malfoy,” she rebutted sarcastically, pointing at the portraits on the walls. The Slytherin ancestors were all wearing similar looks of disgust and/or shame at seeing the shiny balls hanging from their frames. “Be careful or you might be disinherited if caught doing such an appalling activity for a pureblood Slytherin as you.”

For the nth time that morning, all decorating issues stopped and a glare-battle took their place.

After a while of seeing the lethal look directed at her, Hermione smugly noticed that the boy’s eyes were getting quite red due the effort of keeping the stare without blinking.

Serves him right if he has to spend all his family's fortune in eye drops!

She wished she could make the annoying blond spontaneously disintegrate or something along those lines, but realizing that they would never end the task assigned, Hermione finally opted to bring a little of common sense into the mess.

“Look,” she started exhaling a deep breath trying to regain some control, “I think that it would be better if we simply ended this torture and peacefully decorated this frigging dungeon.” All right, so she was a little annoyed and it showed…

Much to her surprise, the boy dropped a notch the intensity of his glare and nodded mutely.

Surprise, surprise. Malfoys _could_ do common sense. Would wonders never cease?

She went to pick up more of her silver ribbons and, from the corner of her eye she saw Malfoy looking first at the sparkling decorative balls and then at the paintings on the wall.

He leered.

The portraits shuddered in fear.

Hermione realized that decorating might not exactly be an innocent activity, after all.

* * *

To general amazement, the doomed pair made their appearances for lunch unharmed and claiming they had already finished their task.

Everyone looked and them in surprise and not little suspicion. They demanded proof.

Draco simply shot them a haughty glance and informed them crisply that whoever was brave enough to bear the sight of a Christmas decorated dungeon could take a tour after lunch.

Dumbledore merely smiled with the damn twinkle in his eyes. He was wearing Santa red robes which could only be described as abrasive on the eyes, and that clearly contrasted with Severus Snape’s usual black attire.

And talking about the Potions Master… Hadn’t he gotten even paler when he had heard the news?

As it could only be expected, both of them stated that they would go down a check their work.

No one else dared.

Draco fought a smirk when he imagined his Head of House’s face at seeing the definitely sparkling dungeon. Snape would have an apoplectic fit when he saw the Slytherin crest covered by shiny balls and glittering ribbons.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl sat beside him stifle a giggle, obviously thinking along those lines.

Oh yes, they were still together. Dumbledore seemed to be getting a kick out of making him suffer the presence of the Gryffindor, and had reserved adjoining seats for the two of them.

But after a morning of shared decorating torture, the forced companionship had proved less than terrible after all.

Once they had declared the truce, things had gone smoothly and he had to admit she wasn’t excessively bad to be around.

Not that he cared, of course.

After seeing the unwanted path his thoughts were taking, Draco wisely decided he had had enough mental exercise already and put all his attention back on food.

Which was being served by a very merry Headmaster in red.

Where the hell were the house elves, anyway?

* * *

“What the bloody hell is _this_?”

No, it hadn’t been Snape and much less Dumbledore screaming the enraged sentence.

It had been one Draco Malfoy, staring incredulously at the dungeons he had been decorating all morning and at all the ornaments sprawled all over the floor.

Granger was next to him looking as dumbfounded as he was, and Draco could almost hear the wheels turning inside that bushy-haired head, looking for an explanation.

“Oh my,” Headmaster Dumbledore started, not quite in dismay. “I think I might have forgotten something of importance...”

This made the two teenagers turn around in unison and look suspiciously at the old man.

“Headmaster,” Snape said, sadistic amusement not concealed from his voice, “didn’t you warn them about this possibility?”

Draco started to understand why Gryffindors hated the dark Potions Master so much.

He was _such_ a greasy bastard…

“What possibility, Headmaster?” Granger asked, keeping her voice in a deceiving neutral tone.

“Oh, you see, children,” the loony merry man in red explained, “It so happens that the Bloody Baron is not too fond of the Christmas season. Something to do with the fact that he was deceased around that date, I think. And he usually gets a little grouchy if he sees too many reminders of it.”

Snape snickered.

The students scowled.

“I’m afraid the Bloody Baron considered some kind of offence to his spectral persona all the decorations you used on the dungeon and he decided to get rid of them. I’m most sorry for this slip in my memory, children. Surely you can have it all up again before night, right?”

“What?” exclaimed Draco most enraged. “ _Again_? We already did what you wanted!”

He hated Christmas. So. Very. Much.

“Headmaster,” Granger said, brown eyes flashing. “It’s not our fault the Bloody Baron did this!”

“I know, dear children,” Dumbledore merrily pointed, “but I’m sure you did such an amazing work. Wouldn’t it be a pity to deprive this lonely dungeon of your exquisite talent?”

“Oh quite,” Snape smirked at them, “we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Draco had to refrain from hexing his Head of House right then and there.

“I will make sure to talk to the Bloody Baron to inform him that he is not to take the ornaments down this time.” Dumbledore announced before stepping towards the entrance.

Snape directed a last smirk at them, full of sadistic pleasure, and followed the older man out of the dungeon, leaving two very incredulous and very incensed students behind.

They stayed speechless for some moments, trying to digest what had just happened in there.

It was Granger who broke the silence.

“We are so decorating in pink this time,” she stated, quite sadistically for a Gryffindor.

“Lead the way, woman!” Draco agreed, picking a sparkling ball from the floor and eyeing, definitely evilly, the portraits on the walls.

* * *

Draco Malfoy hadn’t had such a good time in a very long while.

When seriously riled up, and her anger not directed at him, Granger had proved to be quite an entertaining partner. The girl had been shooting sarcastic remarks about the Headmaster, Snape and the Bloody Baron, while viciously burying the dungeon under a heavy layer of acid colours.

He was going to need sunglasses to enter the place if he didn’t want his eyes to hurt.

And the little incandescent pink ribbon on top of Slytherin’s snake was quite a sadistically inspired touch.

Most definitely, Snape was going to have a fit when he the saw the red-and-gold-Gryffindor lights hanging from the entrances to the dormitories.

Draco, not to disappoint all the expectations the world had on him, had simply been his usual bastardly self and had cheerily managed to bring down to their knees most of the Slytherin ancestors.

It was quite funny to see a portrait in a dead faint, really.

He had been amazed at how shared loathing directed towards faculty members could forge quite a strong bond. Both teenagers had been chatting for a couple of hours and death threats were yet to appear.

Draco had told her that his parents had apparently won a wizard lottery and had gone on a second honeymoon to Les Alpes, telling him to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.

However, he had not explained the methods his mother had used to force Lucius to go on said trip. It was miraculous the effect a hair-be-gone curse had on his father. Especially, with the threat of repeat performances hanging over his head.

Granger had in return explained that her parents had to attend a dentist symposium in Manchester and hadn’t been able to take her with them.

He had asked then what a dentist was.

And she, of course, had explained it in meticulous detail.

However, despite the peace and calm reigning in the dungeons, the witty conversation and the general amusement, Draco had found himself exponentially giddy as time passed.

It wouldn’t be outrageous to affirm that he was even fretting.

Reason?

The fact that, for the second time in all his six years in Hogwarts, he had noticed Hermione Granger was a girl.

And a quite attractive one, at that.

The first time had been back in the Triwizard Tournament ball, and he had been rendered speechless.

But since it had been only for a moment, he had quickly recovered and had spent the rest of the afternoon having his toes squashed by Pansy-Two-Left-Feet-Parkinson.

Now however, he had suffered a long exposure to the Gryffindor and he was having quite horrifying reactions.

Or interesting ones. It just depended on your point of view.

All this had led him to the present moment, when he had been staring at the girl’s movements like a hawk for the five past minutes. And enjoying it all along.

Draco could only blame it all to being a healthy sixteen years old. Hormones were such bitches… In a sorry attempt to dismiss it all, he told himself that, in a situation like this, he could have found Millicent Bulstrode attractive.

He almost got sick due to the imagery.

That was the precise moment Granger chose to direct a short glance at him to see what he was doing.

Their eyes locked.

Draco felt suddenly hot, despite the little puffs his breath caused when got in contact with the chilly air of the dungeons.

He comforted himself with the fact that Granger apparently had the same problems with temperature he had. A conspicuous red tinge was spreading on her cheeks.

They kept looking at each other.

Then, one of Draco’s feet shot forward, on its own volition and…

“Draco-luv,” a male voice came from the boys’ dormitories entrance, “have you seen the wrapping paper anywhere? I need some for Christmas gifts.”

Draco and Granger tore their gazes off each other to place them on a smiling Blaise Zabini.

A very _naked_ smiling Blaise Zabini.

Granger turned her back on him, blushing furiously.

“No I haven’t,” Draco shrugged.

“Ah, not fair,” Blaise pouted. “I wanted to get all the copies of the pop-up Kama-Sutra all pretty and nice for you guys…”

“Have you tried on Pansy’s drawer? She usually has some there.”

Blaise’s eyes brightened. “Oh, thanks!”

The naked Slytherin bounced happily up the stairs of the girls dormitories leaving once again the unlikely pair alone.

“What was _that_?” Granger shrieked, turning around to fix Draco with a wild eyed look.

“Blaise,” he said casually.

“Oh, I knew that,” she snorted. “Why in hell was he _naked_?”

“Because he _is_ Blaise,” Draco said, as if that explained everything.

Granger glared at him.

Much to Draco’s horror, he found the gesture quite fetching.

“He has had this ‘inhibitions-free’ thing going on since I’ve know him. You eventually get used to it, believe me”

“I certainly haven’t seen him like _that_ in any of our classes,” she deadpanned.

“Not because he hasn’t tried…” he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly realizing that they were again staring into each other’s eyes, she quickly turned around to face the bookshelves.

Draco was starting to lose his patience along with his mind.

She had blushed, hadn’t she? And he didn’t mean when Blaise had graced them with his presence, but when they had been intently looking at each other.

That had to mean something! She was also a teenager, so hormones should be working for her too.

Draco fixed his burning silver gaze on her, watching how her movements looked not quite natural. It was obvious she was affected too by whichever mental disease had gotten to him. But it looked like she was having a better success rate at fighting it than he had.

Salazar help him, Draco Malfoy wanted to snog Hermione Granger!

In the Slytherin dungeons, no less!

And good Slytherin that he was, he started plotting a way to get what he wanted.

If possible, he silently mused, without bodily-harm involved. She had, after all, a nasty temper.

Absently rubbing a cheek, the memory of a hard slap still fresh in his mind, Draco looked around the place, searching for something that could be of use.

Acid green sparkly balls, nah. Pastel pink ribbons, nah. Blinking red and gold lights, nah. Little piece of mistletoe…

Oh why, _hello_ , little one...

He picked it up and smirked.

Had Granger been able to see him in that moment, she would have run away from the dungeons screaming in sheer terror.

Luckily for Draco, she hadn’t.

With the grace of a big blond cat, the Slytherin approached his unsuspecting prey, who was still busying herself besparkling every piece of furniture in the dungeons.

When he was barely a step away from her, he leaned in from behind to speak near her ear.

“So Granger,” Draco breathed. “Don’t you think we should ornate the poor lonely doorframe too?”

She almost jumped out of her skin.

“W-what?” Granger stammered looking at him as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head.

“Ribbons,” Draco pointed first with one slender finger. “Doorframe,” pointed afterwards. “How about hanging some of them there. It’s a little plain as it is now, isn’t it?”

She directed her gaze towards the dungeon entrance, obviously finding it much more secure than keeping on looking at the boy in front of her.

“All right. Get a chair, it’s too high and we’ll need it,” she ordered in a tense voice.

“Your wishes are my commands, fair lady.”

This time her jaw almost hit the ground.

Draco offered her a slow smile and went to fetch the chair, mentally cheering himself. If the wide-eyed incredulous look she had directed at him right now was any indication, he was getting to her. Big time.

When he returned with the chair she was already checking the entrance, and decidedly refusing to look at him.

His smile only widened.

Draco placed the chair next to Granger and put both of his hands on her waist.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she squeaked.

“Helping you up? Honestly Granger, I don’t bite or anything.”

It was well known Slytherins were great liars.

He did help her up the chair, though. He even behaved while she placed the ribbons with shaky hands. When she was finished with the ribbons, he passed her the mistletoe.

“A final traditional touch for the decorating, “ was all he said.

Granger looked at him with evident distrust but hung the mistletoe all the same.

That was the moment Draco had been patiently awaiting.

Not giving her time to react, his hands reached for Granger’s waist again and pulled her off the chair, and quite conveniently pressed against his own body, a little piece of mistletoe hanging over both of their heads.

“Malfoy!! What do you think you are- mphh”

Draco’s had sealed his lips over hers firmly, using his hold on her waist to keep the Gryffindor in place.

Had anyone told him that morning, he would be kissing Hermione Granger, he would have called him a fool and proceeded to merrily hex him until Next Year.

Yet here he was. Doing exactly that and enjoying it very much.

Granger’s initial attempts to push him away quickly vanished, and Draco felt with smug pride how she snaked her hands around his neck, entangling her fingers in the soft blond hair.

That was all the encouragement he needed to run his tongue over Granger’s bottom lip, wanting to deepen the kiss and taste the wet warmth of her mouth.

She happily obliged.

They kissed for a while, ignoring the surrounding environment, too deeply concentrated in the sensations they were experiencing.

The tiny little part of Draco’s brain still functioning was screaming at him how wrong what he was doing was. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to care, so he told it to shut up.

All that mattered in Draco Malfoy’s world right then was the feeling of the soft lips moving against his own, the daring tongue exploring the cavern of his mouth, the heat of the firm and slender body pressed against his, the way Granger was entwining her fingers in his hair…

A soft moan cut the silence reigning in the dungeons, and he wouldn’t have been able to tell if it was his or hers.

Eventually, they did break the kiss, what with breathing being a necessity, after all.

He was relieved, and he really didn’t want to ask himself why, that she hadn’t bolted as soon as his mouth had left hers. She was still in the circle of his arms, her burning dark gaze fixed in his icy one and looking positively ravishing.

She seemed to be searching for something, and the intense scrutiny made Draco feel an inkling of apprehension hovering over him.

When her gaze softened and she offered him a little shy smile, the blond decided she had found whatever she had been looking for, and let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

There would be other times to analyze the wrongs of this situation in depth, but this bushy-haired fiery girl in front of him was all he could think of right now.

“So,” she cleared her throat. “You wouldn’t think Gryffindor tower is in need of a little Christmas decorating, now would you?”

He felt his face break into a wide grin, grey eyes sparkling with amusement at the beautiful Gryffindor, and leaned in for a repeat of his last performance.

Oh, how he loved Christmas!

He wished his parents were enjoying the holidays as much as he was.

* * *

Somewhere in Les Alpes, a fair-haired wizard was screaming at his wife, while a snowstorm blazed outside the cozy wood house they were inhabiting.

“Now Lucius, calm down, it’s not that bad,” Narcissa Malfoy said with a conciliatory tone, but keeping her death-grip on his arm nonetheless.

“NOT THAT BAD?” Lucius Malfoy roared. “We have to share this bungalow with-with, those,” he swung an accusing finger at the other couple present in the room, “and you say that it’s not that bad? Are you crazy, woman?”

“We always could be out there in the storm,” she shrugged, always the practical witch.

Dobby raised his eyes from his sock-knitting and looked merrily at Winky.

“Dobby and the other elves is very lucky Headmaster Dumbledore sends them here to have fun in the holidays. Why is Master Malfoy having no fun?”

The house elf was oblivious at the murderous glare Lucius shot him. Narcissa strengthened her hold on his arm.

“Dobby thinks, Master Malfoy needs to like Christmas more.” The house elf looked sincerely worried about the wizard’s situation. “I knows! Dobby will sing happy Christmas songs to Master Malfoy and he will like Christmas better.”

Much to Winky’s horror, Dobby launched himself into an off-key rendition of a Christmas Carol.

Lucius Malfoy screamed in sheer terror.

“Dumbledore you _bastard_!!!

* * *

 

  


**The End**  
 ****

  


  


**Cast  
** Draco Malfoy as The Sexy Evil Blond

Hermione Granger as The Brainy Girl  
Albus Dumbledore as The Evil Headmaster in Red  
Severus Snape as The Sadistic Greasy Bastard

  


**Introducing**  
Blaise Zabini as His Merry Nakedness  
Lucius Malfoy as The Stressed Big and Hairy Bad  
Narcissa Malfoy as The Ice Lady  
Dobby the House Elf as Dobby the House Elf  
Winky the House Elf as Winky the House Elf.

**  
Music**  
We wish you a Draco Christmas  
performed by Slytherin Girls Choir  
Horny Night  
performed by Blaise Zabini  
Adeste Hermionis  
performed by Draco Malfoy

**  
Special Thanks**  
S-Glitter Inc. and Gryffin D’Cor for providing the materials for the decorating

  
Heartfelt thanks go to Lady M Ltd. for their invaluable post-production work.

  
This is a fictional tale. The events narrated here are purely invented and  
any similarity with real life events is purely coincidental.  
Sirylu Productions will not be held responsible for possible  
psychological support needed after reading this story.  
No animated portrait has been harmed during the making of this fic.

  
Sirylu Productions, Christmas 2002.

**# e n d**


End file.
